


Whumptober 2020 No. 5 + 6

by Sapless_Tree



Series: MacGyver Whumptober [5]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016) Whump, Confused Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Gen, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), No. 6 - Freeform, On the Run, Rescue, Whump, Whumptober 2020, concussion, macgyver whump, matty is just like briefly there over the phone, no more, no. 5, sfw, sprianed/broken ankle, stop please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26905369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapless_Tree/pseuds/Sapless_Tree
Summary: Whumptober no. 5 + 6 "Where Do You Think You're Going" and "Please..."Prompt: on the run, rescue, "stop, please," "no more"Mac was barely even conscious anymore-- floating somewhere between being completely unaware of everything around him and responsive enough to let Bozer guide him over to the couch. His balance wasn’t anything inspiring, though.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) & Riley Davis, No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilt Bozer & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Wilt Bozer & Riley Davis (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: MacGyver Whumptober [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999582
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Whumptober 2020 No. 5 + 6

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this is supposed to be like the mid-aftermath of a job gone to hell I guess, so you don't get to really see what happened just the consequences. Maybe after whumptober is over I'll revisit this one and add an alt chapter so you can see the action-- I just felt like a lot of my whumptober works were reading as repetitive
> 
> so sorry this one's summary reads as a bit misleading for the content of this fic, but that's why I explained in the notes

“Now, you’re sure you’ll be able to handle this, Boze?” Jack asked for what seemed like the tenth time.

“I told you,” Bozer said, “I got this. It’ll only be a little while; we’ll be just fine until you get back.”

“As soon as I get Ri, I’m coming right back,” Jack promised, “if anything happens _at all--_ “

“--call you immediately?” Bozer finished. “Trust me, Jack. You go get our girl, and if Mac so much as sneezes, you’ll be the first to know.”

It was a mission that had gone sideways-- so sideways, in fact, that it was basically upside-down. They were in China, retrieving stolen intel (and now a stolen Riley) where their plan had gone completely on its head. Due to the estimated duration of the mission, a Phoenix offensive safehouse had been set up prior to the mission’s start in anticipation of it going poorly. Matty thought it necessary to have somewhere for the team to duck into and wait for exfil should the need arise.

And oh did it ever.

The team had cleared out of the target building pretty quickly when things had started to go bad, gunning it to the safehouse coordinates down one Riley, supporting a heavily concussed Mac, and fugitives of the country. 

They needed to go get Riley-- with Mac out of commission and Jack not trusting the blond to be on his own, he knew it was the team’s best move to have Bozer stay with dazed and confused while Jack went to get his other kid. Jack didn’t compare things to Cairo lightly, but he knew this was bad. _Really_ bad.

“Bozer,” Jack said, all the light playfulness was gone from his voice. “Keep Mac safe.”

“I will,” Bozer replied. “Bring Riley home.”

With a solemn nod, Jack grabbed his gun and made his way out of the safehouse. Bozer and Mac were alone; it wasn’t that Bozer felt helpless without Jack there, but Jack’s presence had always had a calming effect on everyone on the team. Whether it was with his lighthearted complaining, his simple reassurances, or complete and unwavering confidence in each of his teammate’s abilities. 

Bozer made his way back over to the couch where Mac was sleeping-- he definitely needed (and deserved) the rest, but someone had to wake him every twenty or so minutes to make sure that he was still responsive. Gently shaking the blond’s shoulder, so as not to jostle his head too much, Bozer called out to his friend.

“Hey, Mac?” He said. “Hey, you gotta wake up real quick so I can check you over, okay?” Belatedly, and with some effort and strain, Mac opened his eyes. He was squinting-- his eyes barely cracked open a slit-- trying not to let too much light in. The curtains were already drawn and lights all off, but it would still be day out for another few hours. “There you are,” Bozer said. Mac slowly turned his head to the sound of Bozer’s voice. Even squinted tight as they were, Bozer could tell Mac’s eyes weren’t quite tracking anything. “Hey, bud. Can you tell me your name?”

Mac blinked slowly a few times, as if thinking over the question. “Yeah…” He eventually said, voice thick with exhaustion and pain. He didn’t say anything else after that, merely looking at Bozer with an empty gaze.

“Your name?” Bozer tried again. Confusion filled Mac’s face, like he hadn’t expected the question to be asked again, but he nodded. “Out loud, man.”

Understanding graced his features-- it wasn’t an expression Bozer or Jack had seen on his face much the past few times they’d woken him up. “MacGyver,” he eventually answered, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes.

“Can you give your full name, Mac?” Bozer asked.

“I don’t…” Mac said, trailing off for a moment before recapturing his train of thought. “Don’t like my first name.”

Bozer smiled-- at least there was some of their regular old Mac in there. It gave him confidence that Mac would be able to regain his normal cognitive functioning after a little medical attention. It was miserable being fugitives in the country; if they hadn’t been, they would have been able to get Mac to a doctor by now. The look on Mac’s face was tinged with a bit of confusion but he mostly just looked lost. 

It killed Bozer.

“All right,” Bozer said-- he was fairly confident that if Mac knew he didn’t like his first name, that he’d remembered what it was. “Do you know where you are?” Bozer asked, cycling through the questions he’d heard Jack asking him each time they’d woken Mac from his nap.

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “We’re… not, uh, home. We…” Mac trailed off again. Deep concentration settling over his features even as his eyes remained shut. Bozer waited patiently for an answer that never came. “Where are we?”

“We’re at the Phoenix safehouse, that ring a bell?” Tentatively, Mac shook his head, wincing as soon as he did. Jack and Bozer had already told Mac several times, but he was having some difficulty keeping new information in mind-- he just couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of the safehouse. “Can you tell me anything about what we were doing before?” Bozer tried.

“Uhm… we were in… a building? There was a-- a guy.” Mac rubbed his hands over his face, eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to think. “I don’t know… he had a gun I think.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Bozer encouraged. “Do you remember what happened?”

Mac was quiet for a long time after that question; Bozer would have been worried Mac had drifted off if he couldn't see how hard his friend was trying to get the wheels turning in his brain again. The blond let out a frustrated huff, moving to press his palms to his eyes.

“Mac, bud? Can you tell me what happened? With the guy with the gun?”

Groaning quietly, Mac sucked in a shaky breath. He didn’t move his hands from over his eyes. “Please stop…” he said after a stretch of quiet. “No more questions. Head hurts.”

“Okay,” Bozer said. “Here’s an easy one: are you hungry?” He asked. Bozer swore he could see Mac visibly pale and his adam’s apple bob.

“No…”

Bozer smiled sadly; Mac never really did have an appetite when he was sick, it made sense he was the same concussed. However, nobody ever turned down Bozer’s cure-all homemade soup-- not shot, sick, drugged, or even concussed.

“Well how about I make you some soup anyways?” He offered. “Some food might make you feel better.” Mac didn’t reply, merely lowered his hands and cracked his eyes open again, trying to understand his surroundings. “You can go back to sleep now if you want,” he added. 

Mac silently nodded, regretting it immediately as it made the little bit of the world he could see swirl and fuzz together. He closed his eyes and didn’t plan on opening them again until he had to. And as a testament to how bad he felt, Mac didn’t even object when Bozer helped lay him back down. He fell asleep almost instantly.

True to his word, Bozer went off into the safehouse’s kitchen and began to rummage through the cupboards. The place had been stocked with food just in case. It seemed their team always ended up needing “just in case” materials. Pulling out the ingredients for his soup, Bozer called Matty. None of them had checked in with her yet, and Bozer was willing to bet Jack hadn’t called her on the way to get Riley.

“Bozer?” Matty’s voice filtered in from the other side of the line. Bozer stuck his cell in the crook of his neck and began to prepare the food. “Took you guys long enough, how's it going?”

“Well,” Bozer began, “it’s kinda good news, bad news, worse news here.”

“Tell me you recovered the stolen intel,” Matty said, voice serious.

“We did,” Bozer replied quickly, reassuring his boss. “Yeah, that’s all good. But bad news: a guy got a couple pretty good hits on Mac. He and I are at the safehouse; he’s resting right now but he’s definitely concussed.”

“You and he are there,” Matty repeated, “so where’s Dalton and Riley?”

“That’s the worse news… Riley was caught and so Jack’s gone off to get her.”

“By _himself_?” Bozer could tell me the tone in Matty’s voice that she was not happy about the situation.

“I don’t like it either,” Bozer admitted, “but Mac’s really having issues with his head all messed up. I was appointed babysitter.”

“How bad is he?” Matty asked. He could hear her trying to stay professional, but the hint of worry in her voice betrayed her.

“He’s responsive,” Bozer answered. “He’s mostly just been sleeping-- we’ve been waking him every twenty minutes-- but he can’t seem to remember what we’re doing, or where exactly we are. Jack reminded him a bunch of times already, but it’s just not sticking.”

“Have Jack call me the second he gets back, and I’ll have exfil coordinates ready with medevac on standby,” Matty said, her command laced with what concern she dared show. 

“Will do, Matty.” He hung up the phone at the same time she did, then set it down on the counter in favor of scooping up all the vegetables he’d cut up and tossing them into a pot he’d found in the cupboard under the sink. By the time the broth had been brought to a boil Bozer was happy with, it was about time to wake Mac again.

Bozer left the pot on the stove and headed back over the couch, rousing Mac much in the same way as before. Like earlier, he was confused by the sudden interruption in his sleep and answered the questions with a spotty memory and disoriented lull to his voice. The sunlight still irritated Mac, but there wasn’t anything Bozer could do about that.

“How about you come over to the kitchen table,” Bozer said, holding out an arm for Mac to help himself up with. “That way you can eat some soup and start feeling a little bit better.”

Mac grabbed onto Bozer, not really aware of what was happening exactly. “Where’s Jack…?” Mac asked as Bozer slowly guided Mac into a standing position. 

“He’s going to go get Riley,” Bozer answered. He’ll be back soon-- he just hoped he wasn’t lying.

With a slight shuffle and wobbly gait, Mac made his way towards the kitchen. He would have fallen over if it weren’t for Bozer supporting him; each time Mac stumbled, Bozer was right there to make sure Mac didn’t face-plant.

“Where did Riley go?” Mac asked after a bit of silence. Bozer did his best to give the least worrying and briefest explanation of the mission-- some bad men had her, but she would be okay. “So why…” Mac furrowed his eyebrows together, once again deep in thought. He didn’t even notice when Bozer had sat him down in a chair and put a bowl of soup in front of him.

“Why what, man?” Bozer asked, hoping to prompt Mac into finishing the question. Bozer was retrieving his own bowl of soup then, ladling it easily and taking a seat next to his best friend.

Mac squinted at Bozer-- well, squinted as much as he could with his eyes already basically closed. “What?”

“You were asking a question.”

Mac’s features quickly gained a faraway look-- the kind he got when he was trying to solve a particularly challenging problem. He held the look for quite some time before Bozer decided that maybe thinking so hard couldn’t be good for him.

“Why don’t you just eat some food, hm? You can go back to bed after that,” Bozer said. He made a small show of eating some of his own, hoping Mac would notice and follow suit. Instead, the blond looked around the room, gaze aimless.

“Isn’t Jack hungry, too?” He asked.

Bozer smiled a bit at the comment. “Probably, but he’s not here right now, remember?” Mac shook his head a little and quickly brought his hands up to his temples as if to still whatever movement he was seeing.

“Where…?”

It was all Bozer could do not to cry at the confusion on Mac’s face. 

“He’s out getting Riley. It’s okay.” The look didn’t leave Mac’s face, and Bozer hated it. “Hey, Mac,” he tried, “why don’t we get Jack and Riley a bowl, huh? I bet they’d be glad we saved them each a bowl for when they got back, right?”

“They like your cooking,” Mac said-- and it was the surest statement Bozer thought had come out of Mac since he had gotten knocked out.

“Awh, making me blush,” Bozer joked, “eat up then, and then we can make up a bowl for the others.” 

It was as if Mac had finally noticed the bowl that had been set on the table. Slowly, he took up the spoon and had a few bites of it with a little bit of water before deciding he wasn’t hungry anymore. 

He’d hardly eaten any of it, but Bozer knew better than to push-- the few measly bites was actually more than he’d expected Mac to agree to anyhow. He did push the water onto him a little more. Even if he wouldn’t eat much (and Bozer knew he wouldn’t) there was no reason for him to be concussed _and_ miserable from dehydration.

Bozer was cleaning up their bowls and storing the rest of the soup when he heard Mac make a strange noise. He turned to look at his friend; nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. But Mac’s teeth were clenched tight, his breathing slow, and eyes squeezed shut. 

Bozer knew that look.

“You gonna be sick, man?” He asked. Mac didn’t respond, so Bozer went and got the mini trash can and pushed it against Mac’s trembling hands. He took it quickly, clutching the thing like it was a lifeline. Bozer took to rubbing Mac’s back as the blond tried to take slow, steady breaths.

He was fighting a losing battle, though. It was less than a minute before Mac found himself hunched over the trash can and gagging into it. The muscles in his throat strained a bit as he gagged a few more times, but eventually, the food came back up in a stinging, acidic wave. Mac straightened back up when he was done, only to hunch over once more and let another wave of sick splash into the bin.

Bozer waited until the dry heaving devolved into ineffective gags and sputtered coughs. “You’re good, it’s okay,” he reassured, continuing to rub Mac’s back. “You think you’re done?” He asked.

Mac gave a weak, shuddery nod, but regretted it when his vision went blurred and spotty again.

“Woah there!” Mac had leaned forward and Bozer assumed it was to spit up into the trash can, but he’d just kept leaning and would have toppled forward if Bozer hadn’t steadied him. 

Mac was barely even conscious anymore-- floating somewhere between being completely unaware of everything around him and responsive enough to let Bozer guide him over to the couch. His balance wasn’t anything inspiring, though. Bozer watched over Mac for the few seconds that it took for him to pass out before taking the trash can into the bathroom to clean it out. Once he had finished that, Bozer pulled out his phone and checked it over.

There were six missed calls from Jack.

Immediately, Bozer called him, barely containing his panic as it rang.

“Bozer, finally!” Jack’s voice came through, but Bozer was already talking.

“What happened, what’s wrong-- is Riley okay?!”

He could vaguely hear Riley laugh on the other line in the background. “Yeah, yeah, Riley’s okay. I called as soon as we got out of there. You weren’t picking up. Is Mac okay?” 

Riley was talking in the background again; it sounded like something to the effect of “ _What’s wrong with Mac?_ ” But he couldn’t quite hear her.

“Mac’s okay-- I tried to get him to eat a bit, but it just came back up. I was cleaning it up, so I wasn't checking my phone. He’s been about the same as the last few times we woke him.”

Riley’s voice came in a lot clearer this time, Jack must have put him on speakerphone. Good, that meant they were safe enough to do so. “Boze, what are you talking about-- what happened to Mac?” 

“That big brain of his is mixed up right now,” Jack answered, “he’ll be okay once we get him to a doctor.” There was a noise on the other line-- it sounded almost like a whimper. “Actually, we should get both of you to one as soon as we can,” Jack added.

That alarmed Bozer. “Why? What happened to Riley?”

“Nothing, man, don’t worry about it,” Riley lied, but Jack came in quickly with the summarized version.

“She’s a bit banged up-- her ankle might be busted, but it’s nothing a little trip to medical can’t fix. Speaking of, someone should call Matty.”

“I did earlier,” Bozer said, “she said to let her know when you two get back to the safehouse so she can send us exfil coordinates.”

“Well good job Boze,” Jack commended, “I can see the safehouse from here, why don’t you call up Matty and tell her to get us outta here?”

“Will do,” Bozer said. It was a quick call in, but Matty’s ability to get an exfil team ready was quicker, coordinates popping up on all of their phones within seconds. It was only a few minutes after that that Jack and Riley opened the door and made their way inside.

“Boy is it good to be anywhere but surrounded by Chinese intelligence,” Jack said dramatically as he helped a limping Riley through the door. She looked a little worse for wear; aside from the obvious limping and her weight being heavily supported by Jack, she was sporting a few nasty looking bruises and a split lip.

“Ri, you okay?” Bozer asked the moment he caught sight of her.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks to Jack,” she replied.

Jack huffed out a breath of mock annoyance. “I’m fine too, thanks for asking,” he said with a smile.

“You look fine to me, old man,” Riley joked.

“Yeah,” Bozer agreed. Besides some bruises here and there, he seemed all right. “Looks like you got off pretty easy.” The two made their way all the way into the safehouse and shut the door behind them. With Jack leading, the two were b-lining for the couch-- Jack said it was so Riley could sit, but they all knew that while that was part of it, Jack desperately wanted to check on Mac.

“He’s still asleep,” Bozer said as Jack helped Riley in the direction of the couch.

“Well go get him up,” Jack said, “he’s gotta learn to share. Riley should not be standing and walking on this leg more than she has to.”

“I’m right here,” she said without any real heat. She didn’t want to be talked about like she wasn’t there, but she knew Jack was right and was hurting too bad to do anything but accept their help.

Bozer woke Mac for the third time-- it hadn’t quite been twenty minutes, but Mac never would have known that. Immediately, however, the blond did notice that something was different than before.

With a dazed look on his face, Mac asked: “what’s… going on?” He looked around the room but didn’t necessarily absorb any of the information that came from it. He just knew it was different ( _more people_ ) but couldn’t grasp why ( _Riley and Jack were back_ ).

“I need you to sit up for me, Mac, okay? Riley’s here and you’re taking up the whole couch,” Bozer said. The words didn’t seem to register, but Mac made no move to stop Bozer when he began to sit him up some. 

Riley’s sympathetic gaze went right over Mac’s head as he blinked slowly, trying to get things into focus. As soon as Riley was settled and comfortable, Jack turned his attention to one very confused Mac.

“Hey, hoss. How’re you holding up, bother? Bozer make a good babysitter?” Jack asked him. 

Mac rubbed at his face, not seeming to completely understand the question. “Where are we...?” With a resigned sigh, Jack explained it to the kid again. 

“We got exfil coordinates,” Jack said, mostly to Riley, “so whenever you’re ready to go we can haul outta here.”

“I’m fine,” Riley insisted, “I’m ready. If we gotta go, then let’s just go already.”

“Uh,” Mac piped up suddenly-- it caught all three agents’ attention that he was talking unprompted, but that disoriented expression on his face was still ever-present. “Bozer made… food for you guys.” 

At first they found the statement worrisome-- it was unrelated and seemingly random. But Bozer broke out into a bright smile after the first few moments of silence.

“Guys, he remembered that I made soup.” The normally trivial statement suddenly became hopeful. If Mac could remember something like having eaten, then he showed promise for recovery. 

“Good job, buddy,” Jack commended the blond. He was beginning to help Riley up and-- seeing as how she didn’t need as much help-- let Bozer support her. Jack then went to get Mac upright and ready to start walking to the exfil site. “Now come on,” he said, “I’m sure the chopper’s got a nice uncomfortable seat with your name written all over it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this cool video online of a brain autopsy where a cerebral hemorrhage was discovered and it led me to some videos about concussions where they were showing a brain model experiencing a concussion (so like half of the skull was off and the brain model was inside so you could watch as the soft tissue hit the inside of the skull). Not necessarily what inspired this, but it's kinda related so I thought I'd mention it :0


End file.
